A snail crawls
up the Adirondack chair leg
stretches its neck, scooches
forward, now sideways, or is it up
side down? Its feelers—almost antlers—
do a 360, the move forward
sure, I’m sure,
of its destination.
The heart wants what it wants, whether
you’re Selena Gomez or a summer snail.
It knows what it’s doing.
Those antlers are eyes.
